Break Through
by tofumalfoy
Summary: In a swirl of GW AU cliche, Heero Yuy is a "glass half-empty" kind of guy who would never even consider singing along with Monty Python's Life of Brian, until he meets a predictably vivacious restaurant owner; 1 x 2 AU


~ Title: Break Through (01/??)  
  
~ Author: Tofumalfoy  
  
~ Rating: PG-13, I guess?  
  
~ Pairings: eventual 1+2+1; possibly others  
  
~ Category: AU, sap, general cheesy romancey-type ~ Warnings: FIRST FIC! (kinda), very mild angst, possible citrus, foul language, conniving (in a good way) Relena, fun-poking at a grumpy Heero  
  
~ Archive: Far be it for me to discourage anyone who wants it. I'd appreciate a note or something, though. ~ Disclaimer: If I owned them I'd be doing a whole lot more than just writing about them, ya know? *^.^*  
  
~ Feedback: I've prepared jars of hero worship for anyone who actually reads this thing. People who give feedback . . . get two jars . . . or something. Seriously, I crave it like a tourist in the desert craves an oasis on the horizon.  
  
~ Notes: _text_ (emphasis)  
  
**  
  
Heero Yuy approached the mid-town diner with all the enthusiasm of a child being taken to the dentist. For a filling. He tried to cast a sidelong glower at Relena, but the woman on his arm just laughed and pulled him along.  
  
"Just one more, Heero, I promise! You'll like this one! I really did save the best for last this time, honest!"  
  
Heero couldn't be sure, but he suspected his childhood friend was making fun of him. It was hard to tell, though - her midnight blue eyes always sparkled with a merriment that was difficult to distinguish from the mischievous glint she wore when dragging Heero to one or another of her "great finds." But he sighed the martyr's sigh and allowed himself to be forced into the diner.  
  
It was well past the standard time for corporate lunch hours, so rather than being uncomfortably packed, only scattered tables were occupied. Heero had only a moment to register the hand-scrawled 'Please Seat Yourself' sign hanging off the edge of the counter before Relena forced him into a booth on one wall of the comfortably-sized restaurant.  
  
"Can I get you folks something to drink?"  
  
Heero was jerked out of his disdainful study of the décor by the arrival of their unkempt-but-clean waiter, who looked to be about eighteen and who was smiling pleasantly.  
  
"Um, ginger ale, if you have it." He was relieved when the boy nodded the affirmative.  
  
"Sweet tea for me, please." Relena beamed and Heero knew she was going to tease him as soon as - "Ginger ale??" she gasped, feigning shock, as soon as the waiter disappeared into the kitchen. "Ginger ale for Mr. 'Soft drinks dull the taste buds'?"  
  
Heero scowled at her through his messy brown bangs, which seemed to amuse her even more. No question now, that was definitely the mischief glint. "You can't think I'd order water from a place like _this_, do you?"  
  
"By 'place like this' you mean a perfectly sanitary eating establishment?"  
  
"They probably serve it right from the tap!" Heero hissed, then chose to ignore his tormentor altogether by examining the inevitably greasy menu in front of him.  
  
Unfortunately Relena was better than him at his own game, and she smirked when he broke the silence.  
  
"Honestly, 'Lena, why do you insist on dragging me to these places? There are much nicer restaurants on this same block, even!"  
  
His companion merely rolled her eyes, as she always did when the conversation during their outings reached this juncture, tossed a sugar packet at him, and resumed her study of the menu.  
  
Presently the ragged boy came back with their drinks and promptly spilled Heero's ginger ale all over his slacks.  
  
"Ohmigod, I'm so sorry! Here, let me get you some paper towels . . ."  
  
Relena chose to bite back the threatening giggle when she saw her friend's eyes blazing fury. Heero was pissed. He was _pissy_ almost all the time, but the occasions when he actually got visibly angry were surprisingly rare. The part of her brain that wasn't fearing for its life mused that she ought to have thought to bring a camera.  
  
". . . Heero?"  
  
He seethed silently for a moment, not even attempting to clean up the mess, then said in a low, dangerous voice, "I am meeting a client immediately after this. It would be very bad for me to show up with the _entire_ front of my pants soaked."  
  
Relena bit her lip before going for the light approach. "Why don't you go see if the bathroom has those hot air hand dryers? If it dries fast enough you won't be able to tell any-"  
  
The glower worked this time, and she ducked her head apologetically.  
  
"Look, you just stay here, and I'll run back to the apartment and bring you a clean pair of pants, okay? Be back as soon as I can!"  
  
"Why do I have to stay here?" Heero stopped her as she bounded out of her seat and towards the door.  
  
She winked playfully. "Because you still need to learn to appreciate the simpler things in life!"  
  
And then she was gone, leaving Heero to stew in his soda by himself.  
  
**  
  
Duo Maxwell merrily tossed a fresh green salad, humming as he worked. Just a moment before, Nev had come in gushing about some really hot guy in his section, lamenting the fact that he seemed to be with someone before grabbing a couple glasses, filling them with a different beverage each, and heading back out front in a whirlwind.  
  
Left again in relative peace - the dish washer kept pretty much to himself - he let himself fall into the relaxing rhythm of kneading the dough he'd set to rise. Breadmaking, he though with a contented sigh, is _so_ much better than those damn stress balls.  
  
"Ohshitohshitohshitohshit!" Nev came flying through the double doors frantically searching the overhead cabinets. "Duo! Where's the paper towels?"  
  
"They're right here. Chill for a sec, though, would ya? My blood pressure reached dangerous levels when you burst back in here!"  
  
The boy nodded, took a deep breath, and released it slowly. "Oh god, Duo, I don't wanna go back out there! He looked like he wanted to _murder_ me!"  
  
"What happened, kid, ya spill something?"  
  
Nodding miserably, Nev made further effort to compose himself. "You remember that gorgeous guy I was talking about?"  
  
"All of two minutes ago? Yeah, I think I remember," Duo said good- naturedly.  
  
"I just spilled soda all over him, Duo! And he was dressed _sharp_, too, ya know?"  
  
The kid looked just about ready to have a nervous breakdown, and Duo took pity. "Hey, it's no big deal, Nev, stuff gets dropped in restaurants all the time. It just takes some getting used to, all the hustle an' all." He put a floury hand on the overreacting waiter's shoulder. "Tell ya what. You wash your hands and see to that dough for a bit, okay? I'll go take care of Mr. Hot Stuff.  
  
Duo stayed long enough to make sure his employee wasn't just going to stand there hyperventilating, then wiped his own hands on a towel and headed out to face the disgruntled customer.  
  
Mr. Hot Stuff was, as Nev had gushed, incredibly gorgeous, however he was also examining the menu with an expression that suggested he'd rather be sending the restaurant up in flames, and Duo's pride felt threatened. Cute or not, there was only _one_ way to deal with customers who had _that_ look on their faces, that one way being to turn on the patented Maxwell charm.  
  
"Excuse me, sir?" Duo made his presence known politely and successfully hid the flinch when those quietly furious (and deep and exotic, his brain added) eyes met his. He grinned, still managing to look suitably contrite, and offered the sitting man a clean hand towel he'd brought back from the kitchen. "I'm terribly sorry about the inconvenience, sir. Is there anything I can get for you to, um. Oh." Duo stopped when he finally noticed the extent of the mess. The man's entire lap and the bottom of his button-up shirt were soaked through.  
  
"Unless you can get me a shower and a change of clothes . . ." Duo was certain the man spoke through clenched teeth. "Then no, there is nothing you can get me."  
  
When Duo's grin broadened he seemed almost taken aback. "As a matter of fact, that's one thing I _can_ offer!" Duo stuck out his hand. "I'm the owner, Duo Maxwell. There are rooms upstairs, and you're welcome to use one of the showers if you like."  
  
His hand was ignored, but Mr. Hot Stuff did at least rise and indicate with a slight inclination of his head that he accepted the proposal.  
  
"Great! Follow me, then."  
  
They headed back through the kitchen, stopping so Duo could send Nev back to his duties and toss the adequately worked dough in the oven, then continuing up the staircase leading out of the office.  
  
"Me an' the guys live upstairs, which is why I've got full bathrooms, in case you're wondering." The man behind him merely shrugged. "So, uh, what should I call you, anyway? I feel kinda weird bringing somebody up here when I don't even know their name." Duo choked out a nervous chuckle while mentally bashing his head against the wall for actually saying that.  
  
"Heero Yuy." Came the brusque reply.  
  
"Hunh. Japanese, are you?"  
  
A slight hesitation from the man following him down the hall, then an affirmative grunt. "My mother was."  
  
"Ahh . . ." Duo wisely refrained from asking any further. "Okay, Mr. Yuy," he said, unlocking the door to his apartment. "Bathroom's on the right just past the kitchen, and there are fresh towels already in there. I'll hunt up some clothes for you while you're cleaning up, okay?"  
  
He received a slightly toned-down version of the earlier piercing glare for his troubles before the gorgeous man followed his directions to the bathroom and shut the door loudly.  
  
Sighing, Duo shook his head and moved to search the cedar chest that doubled as a coffee table in his living room for a suitable change of clothes for his irate visitor.  
  
TBC? 


End file.
